


If We've Got Nothing, We've Got Us

by NoisyNoiverns



Category: Mass Effect (Comics), Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Disabled Character, F/M, Fluff, Married Couple, Relationship Discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 10:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11416443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyNoiverns/pseuds/NoisyNoiverns
Summary: Eight years after Shanxi, Desolas and Valis have an important conversation.





	If We've Got Nothing, We've Got Us

**Author's Note:**

> posting here for a gift for someone on tumblr!! title comes from "something i need" by onerepublic.

There was an easy routine to the end of a deployment, Desolas had learned over the years. Grab his gear, leave the ship, catch a cab back to his apartment, climb the many steps to the twenty-third floor, unlock the door, and head inside.

In the past eight years, he’d had to add another step. “I’m back,” he called, dropping his duffel bag by the cloak closet.

Valis was lazing on the couch this time. She lifted her head, then grunted and made a shooing motion with one hand. “Well, you’re just gonna have to go away for another couple hours,” she mused, squinting at the datapad in her other hand. “I was _just_ about to order takeout, and I don’t feel like sharing. I’ll order for both of us, but it’s all mine.”

He snorted and shrugged off his cloak. “Why don’t we both get double orders, and swap the spares? Then we _both_ eat each other’s food.”

“Oh, good plan, good plan…” She hummed and scrolled through the datapad. “How do you feel about seafood? I have this terrible craving, but I don’t want to walk two blocks down to… the actual building.”

He raised a brow plate, draping his cloak over a chair before wandering over to lean over the back of the couch. “Nice save. Did you forget the name?”

“I have brain damage, you can’t make fun of me. Ugh, look at this, they have a special on any phodros recipe tonight, I _love_ their fried phodros balls.” She looked up at him and fluttered her mandibles. “How many ‘pretty’s do I have to put in front of ‘please’ to get you to order something with phodros?”

He couldn’t help himself. His mandibles quirked up in a warm smile, subvocals rumbling _amused-affectionate-compliant._ “Just two. I have a weakness for phodros claws stuffed with fish.”

“Damn, that sounds good, too… Tell you what, we both order doubles of our top five things, say it’s for a party or something, and put whatever we don’t eat in the fridge for later.” She tapped the datapad against his nasal plates, shifting so she could put her free hand behind her head.

He snorted and stretched his neck down to nuzzle the top of her head. “You’re terrible, you know. Isn’t seafood on the list of things you’re not supposed to eat? Too low on nutrients, or something?”

“Mm, I prefer to think of it as a friendly suggestion. Besides, I’ve been gorging myself on blue meat all week, I need something light, doctor be damned. One night of white meat won’t do shit.” She motioned for him to back off, and he did, giving her room to sit up and get her feet on the floor. She grimaced and put a hand to her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Ugh, did that too fast.”

“You alright?” he asked, already moving to round the end of the couch.

“Fine, fine, I’m fine.” She waved him off, shook her head, and pushed herself to her feet, leaning heavily on her good leg. Then she paused for a moment before grimacing. “Fuck, I should’ve grabbed my cane _before_ I stood up. Could you grab it for me, babe? It’s on the…” She gestured toward the end table to her left, where her cane was leaning. “Word, please?”

“End table,” he supplied, wandering over to grab it for her. “Have you been making it to physical therapy alright? Not getting lost, or leaving your cane at home?”

He handed her the cane, and she got herself situated, then started ambling towards the terminal set up on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, for the most part. One of the nurses suggested I get a VI to manage all those little reminders for me, but I know those damn things talk a lot, so I wanted to ask your thoughts, first.”

He shrugged, following along behind. “Hey, if it helps you, I won’t complain.”

She shot a glance over her shoulder, one brow plate raised and the same mandible lowered, and he snorted. “Well, okay, maybe a little, but I won’t, like, make you get _rid_ of it or anything. It’d be like stealing your cane.”

She snorted and continued on her way. “Yeah, that sounds more like you,” she hummed, subvocals thrumming an amused note. “Anyway, they’re making me start water exercises in PT. You know, in a pool?”

He winced. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, some asari had the idea. She’s so condescending about it, too, talking to me like I’m a stupid toddler just because I don’t want to get wet. As if it’s _my_ fault evolution wanted us to stay the fuck out of the water.” She shook her head and pulled out a stool to sit on.

“You’re kidding.” Desolas followed her example, sitting next to her and propping himself up on his elbow against the counter.

“I wish.” Valis scowled and let the terminal’s DNA scanner check her. “She kept explaining why working out in the water would be beneficial to my leg, and how I needed to get over my fears if I wanted it to work, and yadda, yadda, yadda. Like, I got it the _first_ time, you twit, I just think you’re _nuts.”_

Desolas snorted. “The fuck’s an asari doing on Palaven, anyway? Shouldn’t she be roasting?”

Valis shook her head. The terminal greeted her with a cheerful beep, and she started flicking through the windows open on screen. “Something about her bondmate wanting to come back home for his last few decades. The way she said it made me think it was just some nonsense she made up to make herself look good, but I didn’t want to call her on it, y’know? Don’t want to piss off the PT people.”

“Fair enough, I guess. When’s your next appointment? Do you want me to come with you?”

Valis hummed, then shook her head with a sigh and turned to look at him. “No, that’s alright. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. But I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to walk me there, get shown off a little… You know, ‘Hey, here’s my husband, he’s a general and _way_ sexier than any of _your_ mates, eat your fucking hearts out.’”

Desolas nearly choked on his tongue trying to laugh. “Spirits, Valis. So you _do_ want me to go with, it sounds like.”

“Hey, babe, I’m just saying, you are _very_ recognizable, and _very_ good-looking. I still have copies of all those tabloids from when you made general.”

He raised his brow plates and flared his mandibles. “You’re kidding.”

She just grinned back. “My favorite is ‘ _Desolas Arterius – the Empire’s Youngest and Sexiest New General_.’”

He scoffed. “I remember that one. _Empire Weekly_. That rag’s just softcore _Fornax_ with obnoxiously blatant imperial propaganda instead of weird sex tips. Please don’t tell me you _read_ it.” He thought for half a second, then amended, “Well, at least not _seriously._ _Everyone_ reads it for the entertainment value.”

She snorted and went back to the terminal. “Relax, I just like the pictures. And sometimes the headliner article is a good read. It’s like watching somebody grovel.”

He shrugged. “True, true. But I can do _so_ much better than the _Empire Weekly_ photoshoot.”

Valis quirked up one mandible as she started typing again. “Ooh, are you offering to do a nude pic sesh for me? Gonna give me a nice folder of things to remember you by while you’re out on deployment?”

Desolas rolled his eyes and shook his head, but _amused-proud-pleased_ subvocals betrayed him. “You’re awful, you know.”

“Sure, but you’re the one who asked me to marry you, so what’s that say about _you?”_ She fluttered her mandibles, subvocals dripping amusement. “I believe your exact words were, quote, ‘I want to belong to you’? And what a spot-on assessment, might I add. You may as well get ‘Property of Valis Abrudas’ inked on your ass, ’cause it’s _so_ mine.”

He snorted and flicked a mandible. “I said more than that.”

“Mm, that’s right.” She finally found the right page for ordering, and turned to look at him again, chin in hand. “You told me you wanted to give me the empire and then some. Love and support while I recovered, a nice place to live, five and a half kids, a mate who always comes when called… Everything the vids say it should be.” Her mandibles lifted gently. “Three of four.”

His neck heated. He could see where _this_ conversation would go, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted it to get there. “Well, probably not _six_ kids,” he amended. “We’re getting a bit too old to be considering that many.”

She shrugged. “True enough. But what say we start with one or two, and go from there?” She showed her teeth, mandibles falling to either side invitingly. “We’ve got, what, twelve, fifteen years before it’s inadvisable for me to be carrying kids myself?”

He hesitated, and she watched him for a moment before reaching over to cover his hand with hers. “Hey, I’m not saying we should go try and conceive tonight, or anything,” she said, subvocals rumbling reassurance. “I’m just saying… I’m saying we’ve talked about it before, maybe it’s time we go off birth control and see what happens.”

His mind reeled. They’d certainly gotten to _that_ in a hurry. That happened a lot with Valis, he’d noticed – she had a knack for jumping straight from the most casual topics to the most serious ones in less than a heartbeat. And sure, he’d entertained the notion of being a father plenty of times before, and with increasing frequency once he and Valis had started getting more serious. But spirits, they were both approaching middle age uncomfortably fast. Was it really a good idea for them to be having kids?

And for another matter entirely, how was he supposed to tell _Saren?_

“How did we even get _on_ this topic?” he stalled, fluttering his mandibles wildly. And how did he get out of it?

She laughed and slapped the counter. “I was thinking about it while you were away, actually. It gets lonely here, y’know? And I was just looking for an excuse to bring it up.”

He clamped his mandibles against his face. “So… You’ve decided, it sounds like? You really want a kid?“

She settled down and shrugged, leaning against the counter. “I mean, in theory, I do. A little kid running around, being cute, keeping me company and busy… A little something of the both of us that’s real, and will last a good, long time.” She sighed. “I remember… I remember in the hospital, I used to think, what if I’d been expecting, without knowing it? Especially when I was afraid you might be dead, I had a few moments I almost wished you’d gotten me knocked up, just so I’d have someone around to keep me connected to you. Y’know, the things you think when you’re lonely and trapped in a hospital.”

He flicked one mandible and turned his hand over so he could grasp hers. “You said, ‘in theory.’”

She nodded. “Yeah. In theory. In practice… I don’t know, Des. I don’t know _shit_ about how to be a mom. I know how to be a big sister, sure, but it’s been ages since my siblings needed looking-after. All my friends with kids say it’s instinct once they’re born, but what if it’s _not?_ What if I don’t even have a maternal instinct? And I know my brain’s not what it used to be, is it really fair to the kid to bring them into this world, and give them a mom who has trouble remembering the most basic details on bad days?”

He kept silent, waiting. She’d figure out her point eventually. Patience was the key with Valis, these days. He just quietly massaged the joint between her thumb and inner finger with his thumb, and she watched for a long moment before sighing. “But y’know,” she mused, “I was thinking all that over, ruminating y’know, and then I thought… If we did have a kid, it wouldn’t be me alone raising them. I’d have you. We help each other, that’s what we do. And we both have our friends, and there’s my siblings, and my parents, and you have Saren, and I bet that hot set of spurs he hangs out with, Kryik or whoever, he seems like he’d be pretty okay with lending a hand if need be. Even if we didn’t know what we were doing, it’s not like we wouldn’t have help.”

Desolas nodded to himself, humming low in his chest. She had a point. He didn’t know how to be a father, either. Granted, he’d had most of a lifetime of practice with Saren, but that was different, somehow. That had required a balancing act between sibling and parent. Having a kid of his own took out that first element entirely. But, like she said, he could probably do pretty okay with a little help. “Well,” he said slowly, “I think… I think maybe you’ve got a good idea going.”

They looked up at the same time, meeting each other’s gaze. They stared for a moment, locked in place, then he lifted his mandibles. “So,” she almost whispered, “we go off?”

He hesitated, then nodded, and a sense of finality dropped into his gizzard like a rock. “We go off,” he confirmed. “And whatever happens, happens.”

Her mandibles rose, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d just rewritten the course of his own fate. Maybe he had, maybe he hadn’t. Time would tell. Well, time and pregnancy tests, anyway.

They sat there for a moment, holding hands and watching each other. After a while, Valis broke away, shaking out her neck. “Well, that’s a worry for later,” she said brusquely. “A worry for now is what’s for dinner. I’m _famished,_ and you and your sexy willingness to have serious discussions at the click of a mandible are distracting me.”

He barked a laugh, a sharp, startled sound, and her mandibles jerked up in a grin. He mirrored the expression, shaking his head and scooting closer so he could read the screen. “Love you too, babe.”


End file.
